Angel's Guardian
by Celli
Summary: Clark needs a break. Futurefic; spoilers through "Prodigal."


Feedback: celli@fanfic101.com   
Category: Futurefic; RWR (Rift? What Rift?)  
Rating: G. No, really.  
Summary: Clark needs a break.  
Archiving: Ask and I'll probably say yes.   
Disclaimer: Smallville and its residents belong to Millar   
Gough Ink, Warner Brothers, DC Comics, and other assorted   
people with lawyers. Bummer.  
Thanks to Caro and Shelley for the betas. Written for   
Slodwick's A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Challenge.  
  
***  
  
Angel's Guardian  
by Celli Lane  
  
***  
  
"Wake up."  
  
"What?" Clark mumbled. "Go away. No more cows."  
  
"You live on a farm. You *own* cows."  
  
"My father owns cows."  
  
"And probably names them all personally. My point is, you   
don't need to be mocking cows."  
  
Clark kept his eyes squeezed shut. "I could mock the corn   
instead. You know, in Kansas, we eat corn. We don't put   
it on buildings."  
  
Lex sighed. "Okay, Mitchell was a mistake."  
  
"The Corn *Palace*? Pfah. Waste of good corn. And why   
did we keep driving for four hours after that? You saw the   
ethanol factory. You're buying the ethanol factory. Go   
you."  
  
"If you'd open your eyes, you might figure it out." There   
was a hint of impatience in Lex's tone. Clark opened his   
eyes.  
  
And sat up straight. "Whoa."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
The brown plains and fenced pastures of central South   
Dakota had disappeared while he slept. Instead, forested   
hills rose up around him, dappled in every imaginable shade   
of green. They were in a valley that held a gravel road, a   
small farmhouse, and a couple of barns. Behind it all, he   
could just see a glimmer of sun on water that might be   
either a river or a lake. The air smelled like pine trees   
and spring and--  
  
He looked at Lex. "Cows?"  
  
"Well, it is a working ranch," Lex said. Not defensively.   
At all.  
  
Clark grinned. "We're still in South Dakota, right? Or   
was there an I-90 exit for the Twilight Zone?"  
  
"Welcome to the Black Hills."  
  
"Lex..." He looked around again. "I've never seen anything   
like it."  
  
Lex smiled.  
  
***  
  
"I thought about buying the ranch in Montana back," Lex   
said. They were sitting on the dock behind the barn,   
watching the ripples on the lake. Dinner had been earlier:   
steaks, garden-grown salad, and apple pie almost as good as   
Martha Kent's. Then they'd been shooed away from the   
dishes with homemade hot chocolate and orders not to come   
back until it had all been enjoyed. "But I didn't want to   
displace the family Dad sold it to. So I found this   
instead."  
  
"Have you been up here a lot?"  
  
"No, just to take a look around when I bought it. I'm   
hoping that with the new plant, I'll be up here more." Lex   
sipped his hot chocolate. "Mmm. I hear it's spectacular   
in the fall."  
  
Clark bounced his feet a bit, kicking up a small spray of   
ice-cold water. "I'm glad you brought me."  
  
"Not the usual spring break, I suppose."  
  
"That's okay. I didn't have anything planned anyway."  
  
"I thought you were going to stay in Metropolis and help   
little old ladies cross the street."  
  
"Ha."  
  
"It's going to look great on your resume. 'Extracurricular   
activities: College newspaper, intramural volleyball,   
fighting crime.' Sure to wow potential employers."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Lex raised an eyebrow.  
  
Clark lifted his chin. "I don't play volleyball."  
  
"Right. Sorry. What was I thinking?" Lex's grin turned   
sardonic. "Where would you find the time between school   
and saving people?"  
  
"Lex."  
  
"I'm just saying, you need to relax. I pay an obscene   
amount of money in taxes that do things like fund the   
salary of the Metropolis police force. They're going to   
start feeling left out if you don't let them have some   
fun."  
  
"Number one, you're not 'just saying.' You're never 'just   
saying.' Number two, you and my dad really need to get off   
this 'can't save the world' kick."  
  
"It figures," Lex said into his hot chocolate. "The one   
time Jonathan and I agree on something, and you're too   
stubborn to pay attention."  
  
"Number three, you never take a break. This is a working   
vacation for you. Pot? Kettle? Hello."  
  
Lex made a muffled, irritated noise and glared at the   
water. Beside him, Clark made a similar sound.  
  
"So that's why you brought me with you on this trip?" he   
said finally, his voice tight. "Because you thought it   
would be good for me?"  
  
"It's a road trip, not Brussels sprouts. I wanted you to   
see this place. And yes, I thought you needed to get away.   
When's the last time you had a full night's sleep?" Clark   
shrugged. "Or ate a meal with anyone, without making a   
lame excuse and rushing off? Chloe asked me if you were   
bulimic the other day."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She says you haven't finished a meal with her since you   
started college."  
  
"Oh, for pete's sake. What did you tell her?"  
  
"I said no, you weren't bulimic, just deranged."  
  
"Oh, thank you."  
  
"Any time."  
  
There was a long, resentful silence, and then Clark flopped   
back onto the dock. "So what you're saying is, I've been a   
bad friend."  
  
"No." Lex turned to face him. "Clark, no. I'm saying   
that you're spreading yourself too thin. *I* wouldn't be   
much of a friend if I didn't tell you to--to--"  
  
"Get a grip?"  
  
"Something like that." Clark smiled, and Lex smiled back.   
"If you want to be 'Metropolis's Guardian Angel' that's   
fine--"  
  
Clark rolled his eyes. "I hate the *Inquisitor.*"  
  
"*But* even a guardian angel needs someone to look out for   
him on occasion."  
  
"Does that make you the angel's guardian?"  
  
"Clark."  
  
"All right. What do you have in mind?"  
  
"A real vacation. Let's kick around here for a few days.   
Sleep too much, eat too much, pretend to fish, play   
tourist."  
  
"Oh, God. More corn?"  
  
"No, the people on this end of the state say it with   
stone." At Clark's blank look, Lex said, "Mt. Rushmore."  
  
"Ohhhh." Clark narrowed his eyes. "And a vacation for   
you, too, right? No business?"  
  
"I'll make you a deal. You don't save anyone unless it's   
life or death, and I won't take a business call unless it's   
life or bankruptcy."  
  
Clark stuck out his hand. "Deal. And Lex?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thank you," Clark said, just before he pushed him into the   
lake, hot chocolate and all.  
  
"...going to KILL you!" Lex was screeching when his head   
broke the surface. Clark laughed like a loon and jumped in   
after him. 


End file.
